TOLKIEN; imagines

16: Bandages - Aragorn

Request: Could I request a Aragorn x reader with the prompt "Here, let me see." please? :)

A/N: Sorry it took a while to write, anonymous. And I am also sorry about the title, I have zero inspiration right now. So that's great.

Abbreviations: Y/N: Your name, E/C: Eye color, H/C: Hair color

Type: Fluff, Reader insert, one-shot

Warnings: blood, injury, pain

Words: 1027 (Didn't expect it to be that long. Oops.)

A nightmarish roar erupted from the massive orc's mouth as he swung his blade and tore a deep cut that started at my shoulder and continued in a staggering line down my arm until it reached the tip of my longest finger. An atrocious scream rendered my throat raw as the searing pain of the grotesque marking filled me with enough vengeance to strike once more. My sword sliced through the orc's thick neck, the ugly head tumbling to the ground and halting only when it reached my steely armor of my boot.

The nasty thing's eyes stared blankly up at me, a pittance of stupor frozen on its features.

I kicked the slain orc's topmost appendage away, a triumphant growl emitting itself from my throat, the harrowing pain fueling the action.

"Y/N!" I heard a familiar voice ring.

"Aragorn," I wheezed, all the adrenaline that had been in my blood only moments before, quickly evaporated into oblivion, the pain becoming considerably more oppressive.

Aragorn rushed forward,catching me with gentle solemnity when I attempted to wilt within myself on the fresh and bloodied soil.

"I heard you scream, my beloved. Please let me mend your wound," Aragorn murmured the stern tone was very evident in his voice, despite the fact that he was cradling my form with such tenderness, his callused fingers brushing strands of my hair away from my clammy forehead.

"I'll be fine, Aragorn. I can mend myself," I quipped, holding my bloodied arm close as I tried to pull away from the comfort Aragorn provided. I was the only female within the Fellowship, and I was not willing to show my weaknesses.

"Please, Y/N. This fellowship has already lost one member, and it needn't lose another. You need to be taken back to camp so I can clean and bandage your arm properly," Aragorn reprimanded, but his eyes only shone with distress.

"If you must," I whined the pain overpowering my stubborn attitude.

Aragorn, as if sensing my hatred of the idea, assisted me into a standing position before placing a firm arm around my waist. We hobbled our way quickly back to our "camp" if one could even call our heap of baggage along the bank a suitable place to sleep out the lurking horrors of evenfall. The uneven ground did not favor my limping form, for my feet often caught on stones and exposed tree roots, but Aragorn's steady grasp was enough to keep me upright.

Once the pair of us made it to camp, Aragorn quickly set my shaking form against a tree, before fetching medicative supplies from Legolas's bag.

Stars danced fitfully before my eyes and a steady hum sang a drab, one-noted moan in my ears as Aragorn prepared a cloth with a cleaning solution.

"This will sting, my love," Aragorn warned.

I nodded my head, signaling for Aragorn to proceed, my E/C orbs sealing themselves tight, bracing for the biting afflictions that would ensue.

The solution seeped into my wound, lighting a burning river as the liquid traveled through the cut and down my arm, sparse tears leaking from my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Aragorn murmured his thin lips kissing away the droplets, the stubble on his chin eliciting a giddy sensation from my cheeks.

"It's not your fault, Aragorn," I mumbled weakly.

Aragorn opened his mouth then closed it again, as if about to say something before quickly deciding against it. With haste, Aragorn quietly applied a healing salve and bandages, a worried scowl creasing itself across his brow and lips.

"You should get some rest before we continue," Aragorn mumbled, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Aragorn," I replied.

"I will go set up a cot for you," Aragorn continued, trying to ignore my plea.

"Aragorn," I said again, my voice amplified a bit, the words dripping with a warning of oncoming rage.

As Aragorn began to turn away, I reached up with my untouched arm and grabbed his clothed wrist. "Aragorn," I said, my words fatally quiet.

"What, Y/N," Aragorn mumbled.

"It wasn't your fault, and I swear, if you blame yourself, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, you won't make it to Gondor," I warned. "I will make my words truth, Aragorn."

Aragorn sighed and sat before me, his fingers gently taking my injured hand in his own and tracing patterns on bandaged skin. "I am a Ranger, Y/N. I am supposed to protect you, and the rest of this Fellowship. But Boromir's death distracted me, leaving you open for attack." Aragorn paused before continuing, his voice said and laced with waning self-worth. "How will I ever rule a kingdom, if I can't even protect the one I love."

"Aragorn," I said, my hand reaching up to brush a tendril of Aragorn's hair away from his forehead, his gray orbs meeting mine. "None of this is your fault.This is my own carelessness, my love. You are going to be a king one day, and no one will remember something as trivial as a cut a peasant earned on a quest."

Aragorn brought my hand to his lips before placing a delicate kiss against my fingertips.

"But that scar will mar your skin, long after this wound has healed. And-" Aragorn cut himself off.

"And what, my love," I murmured, my eyes searching his for an answer.

"I want you to rule beside me," Aragorn murmured inaudibly.

"What," I asked, a small smile making its way onto my lips.

"I want you to rule beside me, as my queen," Aragorn mumbled, his eyes fixing themselves on the dark soil.

The grin that had appeared only grew as Aragorn's words graced my ears.

"Why didn't you just tell me," I teased lightly before brushing my lips against Aragorn's.

Our lips fought hungrily against one another, competing for dominance in an elegant dance of lust. As we pulled apart our foreheads rested against one another, Aragorn's fingers fondling strands of my H/C hair while my unharmed hand had found a resting place upon the back of Aragorn's neck.

"I love you, Y/N," Aragorn whispered.

"And I you, my love."